


Swordsworn at His Side

by wanderingaesthetic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, magic shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9152497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingaesthetic/pseuds/wanderingaesthetic
Summary: How Prompto became part of the Crownsguard.





	1. The Prince and the Pauper

Later, they couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. Noctis had slipped his entourage that night and they were walking back to Noctis’ apartment, just the two of them. Prompto had made some stupid, stupid joke, the kind that would take thirty minutes of explanation for anyone else to understand, but among the two of them, tired and giddy in the wee hours of the morning, it was the funniest thing either of them had ever heard. Noctis laughed until his sides were sore and he threw his arm around his friend’s shoulder. Their eyes met and Prompto seemed for a moment limned in light, brighter even than the ever present lights of the city of Insomnia. Noctis’ heart swelled with such love for this grinning, chocobo-haired _loser_ , that for a moment it seemed natural that an otherworldly sparkle coalesced around his friend.

Prompto gasped, feeling as if he had received a light electrical shock, tingling all over his skin and inside of his mouth and down into his chest when he breathed.

When it passed, Prompto stared at Noct, their faces still inches apart. Noct stood still, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide and round.

 “Oh, _hell_ ,” he said.

**

Noctis asked if Prompto would stay the night but refused to explain what had happened until they got to his apartment.

“Noct?” Prompto asked when they finally arrived, but Noctis held up a finger for Prompto to be quiet and checked every room, including the closets, flicking the lights on and off before finally sighing and coming back to lean on the kitchen counter.

“Ignis,” Noct responded when Prompto looked at him questioningly.

“He… making a habit of spying on you from your closet?”

“No. But… I just want to be sure. I don’t think I can face him right now.”

“Noct, you’re kinda scaring me.”

Noctis rubbed his face. “I know. I know I must be….” He looked away and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m…. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Might be easier to forgive you if I knew what you were sorry for,” Prompto said, sitting near Noct at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess it might. So…” Noctis took a deep breath. “So… you’re a member of the Crownsguard now.”

Prompto just stared at him, not fully understanding.

“Not officially, but…. It’s… they call it being ‘brought in.’ Like ‘brought into the light of the crystal.’ There’s a ceremony usually, but what makes it happen is an exchange of trust and I did it on accident and I’m sorry.”

“But, I don’t—“ Prompto laughed nervously. “What does that even mean?”

“Because I trust you, and you trust me, apparently…. you’re like the members of the Crownsguard and the Kingsglaive, now. You’re magic. You have some of my magic. We can… we can keep it a secret if you want, but it can’t be undone. I’m sorry.”

Prompto laughed again. “Why would I want it to be undone?”

“Well, because… because you’ll always have this connection to me now,” Noctis said hoarsely. “Unless I die. And… if anyone finds out they’ll want you to officially join the Crownsguard, which means you’d be sworn to me. For life.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a wizard and I can be a knight if I want to be?” asked Prompto.

 “I… yes?” Noctis saw the grin rising on Prompto’s lips with dawning horror. “No. This is serious, Prompto. This is your whole life we’re talking about. You don’t have to do this.”

“My liege!” Prompto shouted, and dropped to one knee on the kitchen floor.

“No! Get up, what are you—“

“My prince! The honor you hath bestowed upon this filthy commoner—“

“No! Shut up!” Noctis said, trying to pull Prompto to his feet by his armpits. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Are you saying you don’t want me as your knight, Noct? My Prince?” Prompto batted his eyes at him.

“Of course I want you—I just don’t want you to—Arrgh!” Noct stumbled as Prompto wrapped his arms around his knee and soon they were both on the floor, laughing.

“Seriously,” Prompto said after they had recovered and they were leaning breathlessly against the cabinets. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you’d let me be part of your Crownsguard, for real?”

Noctis nodded. “If you want. But please. Think about it. I wouldn’t have done this to you on purpose. You’ve never done any kind of fighting and it won’t be easy. You could do anything. You don’t have to spend your life following me around.”

“Thank you, Noct,” Prompto said, aggressively mussing the prince’s hair as he stood.

**

Later, Prompto snuggled himself into Noctis’ couch, a ball of warmth radiating from his chest down to his toes. He even thought he could feel it in the tips of his hair. Maybe it was the magic of the crystal making a new home inside of him, or maybe he was just so _happy._ Noct may have doubts, but in his heart of hearts, without even meaning to, the prince had trusted Prompto enough to put his life and his power in his hands.

But then again, Prompto thought as he lay awake, Noctis seemed horrified at what he had done, and maybe he wasn’t wrong to be. Who would believe that he, Prompto Argentum, less than a commoner, could stand beside Noctis in the royal court of Lucis without making a fool of both of them? That he could protect Noctis from his enemies? That he could be one of the prince’s swordsworn, like Ignis? Like _Gladio_? He was a _flea_ next to Gladio. What the hell could he offer the prince of Lucis that those two couldn’t?

_But Noct trusts me._ Prompto thought, staring up at the darkened ceiling. _If Noct trusts me to do it then I can do it._

**

Noctis punched his pillow angrily, unable to sleep. Was he really so selfish? Was he really so desperately lonely that his magic had latched on to anyone who would let him in? Why didn’t he outright refuse to let Prompto be part of his Crownsguard? What kind of person would let his best friend swear an oath to serve him with his life? What was Ignis going to say? What was his _father_ going to say? Would he even let Prompto go through with the Crownsguard training? There were certainly better candidates for it.

_Could_ he still tell Prompto not to do it? If Prompto was serious about this then telling him no would equal telling Prompto that he wasn’t good enough for him, which would probably mean the end of their friendship. The idea of losing Prompto as a friend made Noctis feel physically sick. He had precious few friends in his life. Sure, he had Ignis and Gladio, but they were more like his brothers than his friends, bound to him from birth, or near enough. He had Luna, but he hadn’t spoken to her face to face in years.

And he had Prompto. Prompto who was sunshine incarnate, who was the kindest person he knew, who loved cameras and video games and had a crush on ninety percent of the girls he met, who liked Noctis because he liked dogs and comic books and barely noticed he was the prince of Lucis.

He had always expected his and Prompto’s friendship would have an expiration date. Once they graduated, Prompto would go on to have a normal job, a normal family, a normal life, without the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders, whereas Noctis would spend his life learning to be king, and then being king, a job that would leave him no time for hanging out with friends.

Having accidentally placed this burden on Prompto’s shoulders gave Noctis a sick twinge of hope. If Prompto joined the Crownsguard, he would be at Noct’s side for life, living and working in the Citadel.

_This is okay._ Noctis thought, flopping onto his back. _This will be okay. He wants this. You want this. You_ need _this._

Then why did he feel like a monster?


	2. The Father and the Son

_Hey, we haven’t gotten together in a while. Could we have lunch together this weekend? Alone?_

The king was slow to respond to texts, which was perhaps to be expected since Noctis couldn’t recall ever seeing his father with a cell phone in his hand. He supposed it would interfere with his kingly image. Maybe one of his attendants was tasked with responding to all his messages, or maybe Regis always snuck off to the bathroom when he had to use his phone.

In any case, several hours later Noctis received a response: _Something you want to talk about?_

Noctis made a small frustrated noise with his mouth. Was he that transparent?

But before Noctis could formulate a reply he received another text: _Meet me at home, 11:30 Sunday._

**

“Home” was the king’s primary residence, a suite on the fifteenth floor of the Citadel, finely but not grandiosely appointed, as homey as anything fit for royalty could be.

 “Welcome, Prince Noctis,” his father’s butler gave him a low bow. “Is there anything you might require? Refreshment?”

“No. Thank you, Vitrus. I’ll wait for Dad.”

“Very well. Do call if you need anything,” the man said, and bowed himself out, leaving Noct as alone as a member of the royal family could ever be within the walls of the Citadel. Armed members of his father’s Crownsguard stood right outside the door.

Noctis idled around his childhood home, the sound of his dress shoes on the wooden floors echoing in the empty space. He peeked in each room. All was much the same as he had last left it except his former bedroom, which was now bare of his old books and possessions. His bedspread had been spangled in stars and galaxies. It was gone now, replaced with sober Lucian black and gold. Looking at it made Noctis unreasonably sad, so he came back to the dining room to await his father.

“… and tell Vitrus my son and I are ready for our meal,” Noctis jerked awake when he heard his father’s murmur. He couldn’t have waited for more than 10 minutes, but he had fallen asleep with his head leaned against one hand on the dining room table.

The door closed behind his father, leaving the two of them alone. The king looked at Noctis with extreme fondness. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting so very long.”

“No!” Noct said, jumping to his feet. “I think being here makes me relax too much.”

His father looked at him sideways, the skin around his eyes crinkling with his smile. “You would always be welcome to live here again, you know.”

“I know, I just…”

“A young man desires his freedoms. There’s no need to justify that to me. But I _do_ miss you. Come here,” he said, extending his arms.

The two hugged briefly, and Regis held his son’s shoulders at arm’s length for a moment, looking at him. “There was no need to dress up,” he said with a smile.

“Oh!” Noctis laughed nervously and looked down at himself as if he had just noticed he was wearing a suit. “Just thought I might try looking the part.”

“I hope you don’t feel the need to impress me,” Regis said. “Not with your fashion sense, at least.”

The two were served lunch, Regis sitting at the head of the long dining room table with Noctis at his right. The king asked Noctis of his studies and how he was faring living by on his own. Noctis asked after some of his more favored Citadel staff and even ventured into some of the political matters he knew were being discussed in the high council.

They were eating their dessert of fluffy, honeyed pastries before Noctis braved the subject he came here to discuss.

“Dad, I wanted to tell you something, and ask for your…” _Advice? Permission?_ “Approval.”

“And what is this something?”

“I want to make Prompto part of my Crownsguard,” Noctis said with more confidence than he felt.

“Not some _thing,_ then, but some _one_ ,” his father pointed out mildly.

“I guess?”

Regis frowned. Noctis sweated.

“What makes you think he would be a good fit?”

“I trust him with my life,” Noctis said, meeting his father’s gaze without flinching.

“And do you think he would be willing and able to guard your life with his? To stand against daemons? Soldiers? Assassins?”

“Yes,” Noctis said, trying to keep the quaver from his voice.

Father and son stared at each other for a long moment, each trying to read the other.

“This is awfully sudden,” Regis said keenly.

“Yeah, well, I may have… I mean, I did—I brought him in on accident.”

Noctis heard, or thought he heard, the king give the very smallest gasp.

“I see,” he said after a moment, and speared his pastry with a tiny fork as if he hadn’t just been thrown off balance by what his son had told him. “The two of you must be very close.”

“I… yes?”

The king munched his pastry in silence. Noctis found he wasn’t feeling very hungry. “Dad?”

“Yes, Noct?”

“So is it okay?”

“Let me think on it.”

“It’s not like I’m the first Lucii to ever bring someone in accidentally.”

“No,” his father said, putting down his fork and looking at him seriously. “But it is extremely rare.”

“I thought it would be better to have him as an official member of the Crownsguard,” Noctis said, needing to justify himself. “Than to have him running around without any training.”

“You may be right,” King Regis admitted. “I am glad you didn’t try to keep this from me, in any case.”

“So is it okay?” Noctis asked again.

“I said let me think on it,” Regis said, arching one eyebrow. “You’d be placing a heavy burden on him.”

“I _know_.”

“You’d be asking him to die for you, if it came down to it.”

“I _know,_ ” said Noct, gritting his teeth.

“Would you do the same for him?”

“Yes,” Noctis said without hesitation.

His father looked at him with interest. “Really? Your life, the life of the future king, isn’t worth more than his?”

Noctis’ gaze darted around the room as he considered. Was it a trick question? “No, it’s not.”

Regis made a small _hmm_ noise and didn’t say anything else on the subject.

**

The king always walked out with his son when he visited the Citadel, no matter how busy he was. Noctis wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was some formal rule of politeness, or to make sure the press and the Citadel staff saw the two together and could report positively on their relationship.

Or maybe he only wanted to delay the end of their time together.

“Noctis,” his father called to him. Noctis stopped, realizing he had left the king in the corridor several paces back, gazing at that _Prophecy_ painting. Again.

“Yeah, dad?”

Regis turned away from the painting to look at his son. “I think you’re right.”

“What?”

“About making Mr. Argentum part of your Crownsguard.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll inquire when the next class of ‘Glaives is coming in. It should be this summer. That will give him opportunity to train without interfering with his studies, and give time for Cor to get him up to par if need be.”

Noctis gaped at his father. He had gone from being unsure about making Prompto a Crownsguard at all to wanting him to begin his training almost immediately.

“What made you change your mind?”

“The crystal has already blessed the bond you two share,” Regis said, walking past his son. “We shouldn’t take that lightly.”

Noctis looked up at the painting. The version that hung in this corridor was a copy. The original was immense, commissioned for some long-destroyed temple. Though it was damaged, it still hung in pieces in the antechamber to the throne room. His dad had always been weird about it, becoming oddly sober whenever he neared it, staring at it when he thought no one was looking.

Noctis’ gaze flicked from the Goddess, the swords, the daemons, the astrals, the four men in the middle.

_I don’t get it,_ he thought, and jogged to catch up with his father.


End file.
